


everybody talks (but the words aren't making sense)

by words_unravel



Series: the one where they're all at uni (and in love) [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 03:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_unravel/pseuds/words_unravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's got a bit of a crush, that's all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	everybody talks (but the words aren't making sense)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jumpercut (elipie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elipie/gifts).



> Thank you to my wonder betas, [auspiciousme](http://auspiciousme.tumblr.com) and [cloudlessclimes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudlessclimes/pseuds/cloudlessclimes) \- any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone!
> 
>  
> 
> standard disclaimer applies

* * *

Liam's been acting a little weird since they returned from the ski trip. Harry would be more worried except it also means that Liam's been wearing that adorable look of confusion that he's ridiculously fond of. 

Of course, it's not just Liam's confused look that Harry's fond of, it's pretty much everything about him to be honest. Liam is what the world would call "a good guy". He's generous and polite and so sincere about it that even Harry's hipster DJ friend, Grimmy, can't be mean to him. And Grimmy can tear people to shreds with a _look_. (It's a very sore point for Grimmy actually, he complains _constantly_ about it.)

Anyway. 

The point of it all is that Liam is a ridiculously nice person. A ridiculously nice person that Harry really, really likes, and has done, since they first met early on in the term. Only because Liam is Liam, he tends to live his life by this set of--of guidelines, for lack of a better word, and the thing is, Harry's never been one for restricting himself. It's a bit frustrating on occasion.

The other thing about Liam is that he works awfully hard at, like, everything. It makes Harry feels a bit bad at times. Such as now, when Harry's already finished his essay that's due soon and Liam's been stuck in the library for the last two days. 

 

The seat under his arse is hard and uncomfortable and Harry's having massive sympathy pains for Liam at the moment. 

"Need help?" he offers, shifting on the chair. It's possible his left bum cheek has gone numb. 

Liam shakes his head, glancing up. "I'll get it done, Hazza." He smiles over the table. "Be sure to tell the boys hello for me though," he adds before putting his nose back down into his book. Harry hums a response and just sits there, watching Liam's eyebrows.

They're very expressive eyebrows; Harry's quite enamored with them. Liam also tends to chew on his bottom lip when he’s concentrating, something that drives Harry to distraction. Many of Harry’s thoughts revolve around Liam’s bottom lip actually. 

He’s not done anything about these thoughts, of course, not with the way he’s seen Liam look at the girls at the snack shop. Liam's probably never even thought outside of the nice heterosexual box that society placed him in. 

Although that's not really fair either. Sadly, however, there's more than enough evidence to sustain the conclusion that Liam is actually completely straight.

Liam's mouth moves along to whatever he's reading and Harry sighs.

It might actually be good for the group, he thinks. Louis and Zayn are busy filling up the quota of gay (and feeling up each other, geez) and Harry's–well, his sexuality is fluid. He likes people. Personalities. Liam could be their token straight guy, maybe? Although Harry's 99% sure that Niall is straight too, but so far Niall hasn't really shown an interest in _anything_ other than the Tuesday special at Borlain's and the entire Nando's menu. 

The point is, Harry doesn't really want Liam to be their token straight guy. Mostly because of that bottom lip. Also, Liam has some really nice shoulders. And arms. Harry may have spent a lot of time during their recent ski trip staring at the way Liam's shirts would cling to his arms and chest. Subtly, of course. 

"–Harry?"

Harry blinks. Liam's looking at him, worried, and Harry blurts out, "Have you been avoiding us?" before he can stop himself. As he watches, the tops of Liam's cheeks turn red. 

"I–" Liam starts, then closes his mouth.

Harry sighs and just goes for it. "Is it because of Zayn and Louis?" He tries really hard to not sound disappointed.

"No!" Liam bursts out, then hurriedly lowers his voice after he gets several dirty looks. "I mean– maybe I wasn't sure what to think at first, you know?" He looks like Harry's going to hate him and stares down at his hands. "But I mean. Anything that makes Louis smile like that can't be bad." He finally looks back up, brown eyes wide. "Right?"

Oh.

Something twists in Harry's stomach; Liam's got a crush on Louis. 

It makes sense, when Harry thinks about it. Louis is the one that's pushed really hard to get Liam to feel comfortable and the two of them have lots in common. Probably more than he and Harry do for sure. 

Harry realizes belatedly that Liam's waiting for an answer. 

"Right you are, Mr. Payne,” he says, pushing his chair back. It screeches across the floor, making them both wince. Liam gives him a rather fond smile then, head tilted to the side. Harry just stands there awkwardly for a moment too long, then says, "Okay. I'm just, I'm going to see what the rest of the crew is up to then." 

Just before he gets to the door, Harry looks back, but Liam's head is down, his eyebrows pulled together again. 

 

Harry faceplants on the sofa with a loud groan. 

"Well. That's my cue," Zayn says. He turns back to kiss Louis at the door and Harry has to listen to them snog for a good five minutes before he groans again. He can hear Zayn's laughter as he breaks away and a moment later Louis flops across the back of Harry's thighs. He pokes a finger in Harry's rib cage, making him squirm before asking, "What's wrong, Young Harold?"

"I like somebody," he mumbles into the cushion. Somehow or another Louis deciphers it and responds with, "Well. That's never been a problem for you before."

With a sigh, Harry turns his head to the side. It's much easier to breathe this way. 

"They like someone else," he finally offers after a few more pokes to his ribs. 

"That's a very defeatist attitude for you." Louis sprawls out on top of Harry, back to back, his head resting in the curve of Harry's neck. "Sounds quite unlike you," he adds a minute later. 

"You know I don't like being second choice, Lou." 

"Hmm," is all he gets back. It's quiet for a few minutes. Their breathing syncs up and Harry revels in the solid weight of his friend. He loves these moments. 

Of course, Louis shatters it a second later with, "Liam totally has a crush on Zayn doesn't he?" He sounds absolutely delighted by the fact. It's so far left of the truth that Harry wants to cry a little. Instead his, "Shut up," is garbled by the fact that he's shoved his face back into the sofa cushions.

Louis cackles and Harry despairs a little for Liam and himself. But mostly for Liam. 

 

As it turns out, Harry is right to be wary. 

Over the course of the next week or so, Harry has managed to catch Louis and Zayn "in flagrante delicto" - as Louis likes to call it when he's regaling the tale to Niall later - no less than half a dozen times. Amazingly enough, it only happens when Liam’s with him. 

Harry's not quite sure what Louis’s game plan is here. If, somehow in his own strange way, he’s trying to play matchmaker by showing that Zayn’s ‘taken’ and pushing Liam into Harry’s arms—literally, as it turns out today—but as they walk into the flat where Louis is currently straddling a shirtless (of course) Zayn on the sofa, it _is_ great fun to watch Liam's face turn red. Also the way he stutters out an apology like the whole situation is his fault, and not because Louis is evil incarnate, is adorable. 

Liam backpedals, tripping over his own feet and Harry has to reach out to steady him. Over Liam’s shoulder, he catches Louis’s gaze. There’s a little, self-satisfied curl to his mouth when his eyes flick down to where Harry’s hands are resting Liam’s hips. 

"Lou, this is getting kind of ridiculous." Zayn sounds put out. At least Harry knows that Zayn's got no part in this whole scheme. Louis’s smirk disappears immediately when Zayn adds, "If you want them to join us, just ask, you arse." 

A streak of satisfaction shoots through Harry when Louis squawks, looking appalled. "What?! No!" Scrunching his nose up, he tells Zayn, "Eww" 

Harry wants to protest, but Zayn gets there first. With a grin, he says, "I don't know, Liam's well fit–" Liam twitches under Harry's palms. "–and I can say with certainty that Harry's a great kisser." 

Louis looks distinctly disgruntled at the reminder of catching Harry and Zayn snogging, half-naked, on the floor of their ski cabin a few weeks ago. Harry grins, watching the way Louis’s eyes narrow as he looks down at his boyfriend.

Under his hands, Liam shifts. Harry tightens his grip without thinking and Liam goes still. It makes something heat in Harry’s belly and he must make some sound because Liam glances over his shoulder, a question on his face.

Instead of answering, Harry sets his chin on Liam’s shoulder. Their faces are close enough that Harry can feel the heat from Liam's skin. Probably not the best move he could make, but he just bumps their temples together and whispers, "Watch."

Zayn and Louis are arguing now and it's ridiculous, mostly due to the fact that Louis's hands are flying about, trying to make his point while still straddled over a shirtless Zayn. It's also hilarious because Louis is definitely arguing for real and Harry can tell that Zayn is just winding him up. It happens, he supposes, when you've been friends as long as Louis and Zayn have been. Harry's not going to turn down a free show though, so he just grins and takes advantage of being this close to Liam. 

Louis pokes Zayn in the chest, emphasizing some point in his argument. Zayn’s beginning to look slightly annoyed.

"Should we interrupt them?" Liam asks quietly.

It hits Harry then, that maybe this isn’t the best idea – making Liam watch Louis and Zayn. He’s about to suggest they leave when Louis scrambles up and drags Zayn off the sofa. They disappear down the hall to their bedroom, Louis’s voice echoing off the walls. "I’ll show you who's better with–"

Thankfully the door to the bedroom shuts before they have to hear the end of that sentence, leaving the two of them standing alone in the living room. Harry decides not to move until Liam does. 

“You all right?” he murmurs after a moment and Liam jerks a little, like Harry’s voice startled him. When he turns, Harry doesn’t move, keeping his hands on Liam’s hips and enjoying the shift of muscle under his palms. They’re still close enough that Harry can smell the warm scent of the cologne Liam’s taken to wearing lately. 

"So," Liam finally says. There’s a faint blush across his cheeks. "That was–"

"Informative?" Harry provides, trying to keep it light. "Entertaining?" 

"I was going to say embarrassing, to be honest," Liam says and then grimaces. "I think I know entirely more than I need to about their sex lives."

The comment is dry in a way that Harry’s not expecting and it startles a laugh out of him, a short burst of sound that makes Liam grin. It’s that smile, and the loose way Liam’s holding himself next to Harry, that makes him realize he’s been wrong - Liam’s not crushing on Louis. 

Harry thinks he’s probably smiling like a loon at the moment, but Liam doesn’t seem to mind. He just grins back. 

 

Harry decides he’s not going to push anything, content to hang around with Liam. The ski trip went a long way in making him comfortable with the lot of them and Harry wants that to continue. 

Every so often though, when the group is together, Harry will look up to find Liam glancing between him and Zayn. He looks almost sad and Harry can’t figure out why. It’s the fourth time that Liam shows up at his flat with pizza and a movie on Louis and Zayn’s ‘date night’, that Harry finally realizes what’s going on. 

Liam thinks he’s nursing a broken heart over _Zayn_. 

Something explodes on the screen and Harry almost bursts out laughing. He manages not to, somehow, and curls into Liam’s shoulder instead. Almost immediately, Liam’s fingers begin carding through the hair at the back of his neck. Liam laughs at the happy sound Harry makes and something else explodes on the telly. 

He’s not sure when his life became a romantic comedy of errors, but he’s got Liam to himself right now and that’s not something Harry’s going to complain about.

 

Harry's reaching over the table, his arm momentarily blocking Louis's view of the book he's reading. It earns Harry a disgruntled noise, but before he can apologize, his mobile pings a new text message. 

_hungryyyyyyyy wana get pizzaaaa??_

Liam, Harry has learned, has a penchant for bad spelling and perpetual over-enthusiasm in texting (and in life). He tells himself he doesn't find it cute even as he types out his response. _Can't. I have to finish this project for Econ. Maybe Thursday? xx_

_:((((_

He grins at his mobile, glancing up when Louis snorts. Harry's expecting some smart remark, but Louis surprises him, just says, "Lucas is a monster, I swear," and, "Pass me the brown book, I need to check this quote." 

Half an hour later, there's a knock on the door that startles them both. Harry shrugs at Louis's questioning look, half way out of his chair when Liam's voice echoes tentatively down the hallway. "Haz?"

"In the kitchen," Harry calls back, and a moment later, Liam steps into the room. In one hand he's got a bottle of water, the other has a takeaway bowl full of fruit with a banana set on top. 

"Thought you might need something–" He catches sight of Louis on the other side of the table. Harry tries not to feel too happy about the way Liam's face falls the tiniest bit. Of course, Liam's next words are, "Why didn't you say Louis was with you? I haven't brought anything for him."

"Yeah, Harry," Louis helps. "Why didn't you tell him? Now I'm going to waste away to nothing."

It's Harry's turn to make a rude noise, reaching out to take the proffered water bottle. Their fingers brush, but Liam doesn't seem to notice, responding to Louis with, "Such a shame, that." His tone is so deadpan that Louis immediately looks delighted.

With a dramatic hand on his chest, Louis says, "Oh, Liam. I remember when you were such a polite, young lad." A second later, he adds, "It was a dark, dark time indeed," and Liam huffs. 

"See if I ever feel bad about not bringing you snacks again, Louis Tomlinson." He looks back at Harry then, smiling and holding out the fruit bowl. 

Harry wants to say something else, but Liam brought him fruit and he can't really seem to make himself do much more than stand there and grin. Liam seems content to smile back and it’s not until Louis snorts, “Really?” that Harry realizes they’ve standing there like idiots for who knows how long. 

That makes Harry jerk, and it seems to snap Liam out of it too. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck and tells Harry, "I just thought you might need something to tide you over. And I know you like fruit–"

"Bananas!" Louis pipes up helpfully behind them. Harry is totally going to smack him the balls later. 

"–Yeah." Liam glances over Harry's shoulder, frowning in confusion. God knows what Louis is doing now. Harry ignores it and smiles at Liam, lifting the food and drink in his hands. 

"Thanks again, Li. I really do appreciate it." 

Liam's gaze shifts back to him. "Always," he smiles back and Harry does _not_ get stupid butterflies in his stomach at the way Liam's eyes crinkle at the corners. "Don't work too hard," Liam murmurs, reaching out to touch his elbow briefly. 

"I've got Louis here," Harry manages to get out. "I'm sure we'll get very little done."

"Hey!"

Liam smiles wider at that, rolling his eyes at Louis over Harry's shoulder, and then heading back down the hallway toward the door. Harry watches, catching the one last little smile Liam throws him before disappearing. It's only after the click of the door closing sounds that Harry moves, sliding back into his chair. He sets the bowl to the side, but grabs the banana. He can't help smiling as he takes a bite. 

When he finally looks up, it's to find Louis wiggling his eyebrows lasciviously at him. It's followed by a horrendously sexual moan. Harry kicks Louis in the shin and takes his time finishing the banana. The silence looks like it's killing Louis. Still, Harry's fairly impressed with how casually he asks, "So. What's going on with you two?"

Harry shrugs. "We're mates." Louis looks like he's expecting more.

"He’s brought you snacks, Harry." Harry shakes his head. 

"It's Liam. He brought you an entire box of Yorkshire Tea last week because he saw it on a sale." That makes Louis grin fondly, and Harry adds, "Besides he thinks I'm pining over Zayn or something."

Louis snorts again, looking skeptical. Harry doesn't really want to talk about it anymore, so he points out that they've got two days to finish their project and about ten more pages to go. Louis scowls, but drops the subject. 

 

On Thursday, Harry drops their paper off and goes looking for Liam. He's got his mobile out, just about to text Liam, when he remembers that Liam's taken to doing laps instead of running until the weather warms up again. Tugging his beanie further down around his ears, he heads over to the sports center.

The humidity hits him as he steps through the doors. Tugging off his beanie, he shakes his head, swiping it to the side and out of his eyes. When he glances up, Liam is the first thing he sees. 

Harry promptly trips over his own feet. 

The movement catches Liam's attention and his face lights up when he recognizes Harry. He waves him over and Harry makes his way over, trying not to stare.

The thing is, he _knew_ Liam was well fit. He's seen Liam without a shirt on countless times—okay, four but who's counting really—and Liam is an athlete. He boxes, he runs, he swims. 

He swims in the tiniest swim trunks Harry's ever seen. There is pretty much nothing left to the imagination. Harry's surprisingly okay with that. At least until, Liam's attention is drawn away by a hand on his shoulder. 

The bloke standing next to Liam is fit, too, and someone that Harry knows in passing. Tom Daley's a bit less broad and a few inches shorter than Liam, but it's the way he's standing a little too close to Liam, and the way he brushes his fingers down Liam's arm, that are the real problem. 

There's definite interest there, in Tom's eyes, in his smile as he talks to Liam. It makes Harry grind his teeth. 

The good thing is that Liam is as oblivious as always. He just turns to Harry and says, "You've met Tom, right?" The bad thing is that Harry has to stand there for ten minutes and make polite conversation. He stands as close as possible to Liam, who smells like boy and chlorine, which means that it's not as terrible as it could be. 

When he finally leaves, Tom gives Liam a once-over and then smiles at Harry. It's the first time Harry can remember really wanting to punch someone. Instead he settles for turning to Liam and saying, "Where is your towel? Don't they give you towels around here?" 

Liam just laughs, a hand on Harry's shoulder, and goes to change.

When he comes back, fully clothed, Harry suggests going to the coffee shop. Liam's not a big fan of coffee, but loves the peppermint cocoa they serve. As they make their way over, Liam says, "Tom's pretty cool, yeah?" and Harry has to politely endure more conversation on what a great diver Tom is and how he's going to try out for the Olympic team and blah, blah, blah. He quits listening and just discretely watches Liam's mouth as he talks, hoping he nods in the right places. 

It's getting kind of ridiculous, Harry thinks as Liam holds the door for him. He should just own up, tell Liam that he's not pining over Zayn. That he doesn't care about Tom Daley. He should tell Liam that he likes it when they sprawl on Harry's sofa and play FIFA; when Liam mouths along to all the words of _Toy Story_ and how he always gets teary-eyed at the end of the third one; how he makes fun of the way Harry talks on occasion; the way Harry can make fun of Liam's taste in music and all it gets him is an eye roll. There are a million things he likes about Liam really.

And it hits Harry right at their turn comes up at the counter. It's not just about liking Liam, or about getting in his trousers. Harry's actually _in love_ with him. 

For a moment, he can't breathe.

He's got his mouth open to say - what, he's not sure - when Liam smiles at the barista. She blushes prettily when she asks what he'd like and Harry listens to the way he says, "Thanks, babe." The way his smile warms even more makes Harry's stomach drop all of a sudden. 

Liam turns to him, no doubt about to ask him what he wants to drink, but frowns. "Harry? Are you all right?"

And he's not. He's really, really not. 

 

Harry avoids everyone for the next two days. It's not until Louis's twelfth _Get your sorry arse over here_ text Saturday night that he finally heads out. 

It turns out Louis and Zayn are throwing a party. His arrival gets him a hard look, but Louis doesn't ask, just shoves a beer in his hand and pushes him into the crowd of people inside his flat. Half the campus is there and the place is loud, music and voices competing to be heard. That first beer goes down pretty quickly, the second and third the same. Someone shouts, "Tequila!" and those shots are warm in his belly when he catches a glimpse of Liam in the crowd. 

He's got his head bent down, talking to some leggy brunette that Harry thinks is in one of his lectures. It's too loud to actually hear it, but he knows exactly when it sounds like when Liam throws his head back to laugh at something she's said. Harry turns away before Liam sees him, and grabs another beer.

 

David, Harry learns is _nothing_ like Liam. He's got black rimmed glasses and a band t-shirt on that even Harry has no clue about. Harry couldn’t care less though, because David shivers when he brushes his fingers over the skin just under the edge of that shirt, his whole body turned into Harry as they talk. He's just made Harry bark out a laugh when someone stumbles into his back. 

"Sorry, Hazza." Liam's voice is instantly recognizable and Harry stiffens a little. He throws a quick smile over his shoulder, waving it off, and turns back to David. Liam's frown is palpable but Harry studiously ignores it and after a moment, Liam brushes past them.

Harry does _not_ stare at his retreating back. In his effort to do this, it means he glances over to find Louis frowning at him. As he watches, Louis nudges at the arm around his waist, tucking his mouth in close to whisper something in Zayn's ear. Harry doesn't want to know. 

"You want another beer?" he asks David instead.

 

David's mouth is warm, enthusiastic against his, as they stumble through the door of the bathroom. The shape is all wrong though (too thin) and when Harry slides a hand into the hair at the nape of David's neck, the texture doesn't feel right (too long, not soft enough).

Harry tells his brain to shut up and slides his other hand down, brushing his fingers over the obvious bulge in David's trousers; it earns him an appreciative moan. The hands tangled in the front of Harry's shirt tighten and Harry thinks, _Yeah, I can do this_ just as sudden burst of light has him pulling back, blinking against the sudden intrusion. 

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't realize–"

It takes Harry's eyes a split second to adjust, just long enough for him to see Liam's startled face perfectly clearly before he's gone. 

The whole thing doesn't seem to distract David. He's mouthing at Harry's jaw and then bringing a hand up to turn him back so David can get back at his mouth. Harry lets himself be kissed, trying to get back in to the mood, but something about Liam's face, the look on it, keeps messing with him.

Harry breaks away, murmuring an apologetic nonsense noise in response to David's protesting one. After a second, David sighs. "Not on, is it?" 

"I'm sorry," Harry tells him. And he is, a little. Harry's not generally one for leading someone on and it's kind of a shit thing to do. 

It makes David sigh again and step back to lean against the sink counter. He runs his gaze over Harry's face, down to his boots, and shakes his head. "Me,too. Worth a shot though," he smiles. With another mournful shake of his head, David slips out the door. 

Harry leans back against the wall, trying to get his head clear. He drank too much, too quickly, but it's starting to wear off and he can feel the headache that's trying to make itself known at the base of his skull. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he makes a frustrated noise. Why is all of this so difficult?

Unfortunately, standing in the middle of the bathroom isn't going to help him figure anything out. He's barely taken two steps out of the room when Louis is in his face, scowling. 

"What are you doing?" Zayn and Niall are right behind him. Zayn looks disappointed in Harry, and Niall - well, Niall looks kind of angry. It makes Harry frown. That can't be right; Niall's never angry.

But then Niall mutters, "Being a wanker," and well, apparently he _can_ be angry. 

"What?" Niall actually _glares_ at him and--and what the hell? "Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Liam’s left," Louis says, in lieu of an answer. "Liam’s left, Harry, and he looked quite upset." The look on his face says he's expecting something of Harry, only Harry isn't sure what he's meant to tell him. He shakes his head instead, lost for words. Louis groans, throwing his hands up. "You're such an idiot sometimes, I swear!"

" _Why?_ ," Harry asks. "What's going on? Why are you all cross with me?" Louis just shakes his head and Harry wants to stomp his foot, he's so frustrated. 

It's Zayn that finally speaks up.

"You remember when you really liked that one girl? Caroline?" Of course Harry remembers; he'd fallen hard and fast, his first real love. Before he can comment, Zayn continues, "You remember what you used to do for her? How you'd fetch her tea and bring her dinner when her shift ran late? And you were there when she was in a strop about her mum?"

"Yeah, of course I do," Harry finally gets out. "That's what you do when you care about someone. You take care of them." 

They're all staring at him and– _oh_. 

He shakes his head. "That doesn't mean he fancies like that." Niall rolls his eyes from his spot behind Zayn. "It _doesn't_ ," Harry insists. "Besides," he mutters, looking down at his feet, "he's straight. And Lou always said that the quickest way to heartbreak is falling in love with a straight boy."

Harry realizes what he's just confessed a second too late. His face feels too hot and the sounds of the party seem even louder as no one says anything for a minute. Harry refuses to look up. 

"He just caught you with your hands down some other guy's trousers," Louis finally says, his voice quiet. "And immediately left, looking as though his favorite turtle had just died. I think that speaks volumes, Haz."

Harry shakes his head again. "I don't think–"

"I think you were so adamant about just being his mate–" It's Zayn this time, "–that you kind of missed what was really going on."

There might be a little spark of hope now, if the weird twist in his belly means anything. When Harry makes himself look up, it's to find all three of them staring at him with fond amusement. "Do y’think?" he asks. 

Louis and Zayn grin in response. Niall rolls his eyes. 

The room is spinning a little, the remnants of alcohol and realization making it hard to focus. Liam likes him. Maybe. Probably. "Oh god, what am I meant to do?"

"Well," Niall responds. "The one thing you _shouldn't_ be doing is standing here like an eedjit." Harry doesn't move. He's having a little trouble breathing again. Louis pokes him in the belly which makes him squawk and flail a little. 

"That means you should go find him," he adds helpfully, poking him again. 

Harry slaps at his hand. "Fine, fine. I'm going!"

As he heads toward the door, Harry hears Niall shout, "Don't forget to tell him you want to have his little musical babies!" 

Harry just flips him off his shoulder and keeps going. 

 

Harry knocks on Liam’s door again, even though it's apparent that no one is home. With a sigh, he slumps against the wall. He's running through all the places in his head that Liam might have gone when he realizes the best thing to do is just wait. 

With that thought, he slides down the wall until his knees nearly bump his chin. The adrenaline is starting to wear off now, the final dregs of alcohol and emotional exhaustion beating down on him. It's only when he feels a familiar hand on his shoulder that Harry realizes that he'd dropped off to sleep. Liam's quiet, "Harry?" gets through the fuzz in his head and makes him open his eyes. 

"Please don't go get off with Tom," slips out of his mouth before he can stop it. Liam's eyebrows do that cute thing that Harry loves, where they scrunch up in confusion. He blurts, "Get off with me instead," and seriously, he really needs to check his brain-to-mouth filter. 

Liam's eyes go wide at that and he opens his mouth to say something, but closes it a second later. Instead, he slips his hands under Harry's arms and pulls him up. 

"Let's go inside," is all he says and Harry doesn't think about how easy it was for Liam to lift him. 

Once they're inside, Liam goes through all his regular motions he has when Harry's over. He heads into the kitchenette, heating up the kettle. He offers an apple up from the bowl of fruit he's taken to keeping on his counter and oh god, Harry can't believe he's been this blind. 

Liam barely looks at him when Harry shakes his head, just gives him a small smile before turning away to mess with cups and tea bags. They've not said a word and Harry finds he _hates_ the way the silence sounds.

"I'd seen you around, you know. Before that night at the recital hall," Harry says. Liam glances over, face still neutral. It's not exactly surprising, the university isn't that big. 'You were always so serious, every time, and I was kind of intrigued by that." He huffs a laugh. "You've seen the other lads. Quiet and serious aren't words they know very well."

That bit makes the corner of Liam's mouth quirk up. He half-turns, leaning his hip against the counter, and gives Harry more attention. 

"And then I caught you at the piano and you were _still_ so serious and all I could think was that I wanted to pull you away. Wanted to make you see that music was fun, that _uni_ was fun. To let go, really." He shakes out his hair, two brushes forward and one across his forehead before he looks up again. Liam's still watching him quietly. "So I did that."

Liam takes a step forward. "Harry–"

"And it was working great," he carries on quickly. "Louis adored you immediately and you and Zayn were too similar really to not get along in the end. And Niall. Well, Niall's Niall, so." Harry shrugs. "Then the ski trip happened and you seemed a bit put off with finding me snogging Zayn and then with Louis and Zayn getting together."

Liam protests, "I told you–"

"I know, I know." Harry waves a hand at him. "It's just that then it sounded like you had a crush on Louis and like I told Louis, I _hate_ being second choice. Then Louis somehow came to the brilliant conclusion that you had a crush on _Zayn_ –"

"Wait–"

"–and because Louis is Louis, we all had to deal with more nakedness than usual. Not that I’m opposed to nakedness, mind you," Harry's on a roll now. "But I figured out you _didn't_ have a crush on Louis. Only then you thought I was pining over Zayn—which, Zayn's well fit and a fantastic kisser, but no—and you were doing all these things to keep me distracted from that and I–" He runs a hand over his face, "–I was just happy to get to spend time with you."

"Haz–"

Harry huffs, shaking his head. "But then there was _Tom_ , the wannabe Olympic team hopeful, who was so obviously interested and I was okay with that. I mean, I've never wanted to really punch someone before, but well. The worst thing though, the final straw, was the girl at the coffee shop." 

Harry finally looks up. While he's been babbling, Liam's made his way across the kitchen and is now standing a couple feet away from him. 

"The girl in the coffee shop?" he asks. Harry sighs. 

"That barista, the other day. You smiled at her and I thought, _He's never going to smile at me like that_ and I just--I couldn't stand to be there any longer. Sorry for leaving so abruptly," he adds after a second. 

Liam just cocks his head to the side, studying Harry. He's still not really said anything about what Harry's rambling. It's making Harry a bit nervous. 

"So I did that whole stupid 'if you don't want me, someone else will' bit like an idiot. Only you walked in–" that makes Liam frown, "–and ruined it with your stupid brown eyes and I came out of the bathroom to an inquisition and Niall angry is _so weird_ , but they said some things that made me think my hopeless crush might not be so hopeless." 

Harry can't seem to get himself to shut up. "Only I got here and you didn't answer your door and you really haven't said much, but you have a fruit dish now. And you didn't before–"

His back hits the wall with a solid thump that Harry barely even notices. Liam's mouth is hot, tentative against his at first. There's a hand curled around his neck, a thumb brushing against his jaw. Harry's never kissed anyone that was really the same height as him, and certainly never anyone as broad as Liam. 

Harry likes it. He _really_ likes it.

They're both breathless when Liam draws back. He looks worried but Harry couldn’t care less, he just wants Liam's mouth back on his. "That was okay, wasn't it? I've just–I've never kissed a guy before but you wouldn’t stop talking and your _mouth_ , god–"

"Shut up," Harry mutters, pulling Liam back in. The next kiss is as good as the first. Better even, because this time fingers slide into his hair, tugging just a little, putting Harry at a better angle and the hot slide of Liam's tongue against his is the best thing Harry's felt in _his life_. He's an idiot for not realizing things earlier, but now that he's here, Harry's going to take full advantage. 

This time when they break apart there's a flush on Liam's cheeks, his mouth red and wet. "You look good like this," Harry says, and Liam's blush deepens. The hand in Harry's hair tightens. Something his body apparently really appreciates. 

Tugging him back in, Harry murmurs, "I'm going to be your first everything, Liam James Payne." Liam seems totally on board with this, from the way he presses in closer. 

Harry quits talking after that.

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on [LiveJournal](http://prettykitty-fic.livejournal.com/31845.html)


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